Brewster's Millions eBook

CHAPTER XXXIV

THE LAST WORD

“I’ll tell you about it later, dear,”
was all that Peggy, pleading, could draw from him.

At midnight Mrs. Dan had remonstrated with her.
“You must go home, Peggy, dear,” she said.
“It is disgraceful for you to stay up so late.
I went to bed at eight o’clock the night before
I was married.”

“And fell asleep at four in the morning,”
smiled Peggy.

“You are quite mistaken, my dear. I did
not fall asleep at all. But I won’t allow
you to stop a minute longer. It puts rings under
the eyes and sometimes they’re red the morning
after.”

“Oh, you dear, sweet philosopher,” cried
Peggy; “how wise you are. Do you think
I need a beauty sleep?”

Upon Monty’s return from his trying hour with
the lawyers, he had been besieged with questions,
but he was cleverly evasive. Peggy alone was
insistent; she had curbed her curiosity until they
were on the way home, and then she implored him to
tell her what had happened. The misery he had
endured was as nothing to his reckoning with the woman
who had the right to expect fair treatment. His
duty was clear, but the strain had been heavy and
it was not easy to meet it.

“Peggy, something terrible has happened,”
he faltered, uncertain of his course.

“Tell me everything, Monty, you can trust me
to be brave.”

“When I asked you to marry me,” he continued
gravely, “it was with the thought that I could
give you everything to-morrow. I looked for a
fortune. I never meant that you should marry a
pauper.”

“I don’t understand. You tried to
test my love for you?”

“No, child, not that. But I was pledged
not to speak of the money I expected, and I wanted
you so much before it came.”

“And it has failed you?” she answered.
“I can’t see that it changes things.
I expected to marry a pauper, as you call it.
Do you think this could make a difference?”

“But you don’t understand, Peggy.
I haven’t a penny in the world.”

“You hadn’t a penny when I accepted you,”
she replied. “I am not afraid. I believe
in you. And if you love me I shall not give you
up.”

“Dearest!” and the carriage was at the
door before another word was uttered. But Monty
called to the coachman to drive just once around the
block.

“Good night, my darling,” he said when
they reached home. “Sleep till eight o’clock
if you like. There is nothing now in the way of
having the wedding at nine, instead of at seven.
In fact, I have a reason for wanting my whole fortune
to come to me then. You will be all that I have
in the world, child, but I am the happiest man alive.”